"Just remember, you youngsters," said he, "no one is going to the meeting to-morrow from our side." "Oh?" "Any fellow who goes will get it hot, I promise him." "Ah! What about our conditions? What have you done about them?" "Put them in the coal-scuttle; and I've a good mind to put all five of you there too, for your impudence." "Ah!" The captain turned on his heel, with a final warning. "That settles it, you chaps," said Percy, when he had gone. "We go." "Rather," replied everybody. CHAPTER FIFTEEN. SOMETHING WRONG IN THE ACCOUNTS. Fisher major sat in his study after morning class, next morning, the picture of boredom and perplexity. Lists of names, receipt-books, cash- box, bills, and account-books were littered on the table before him. Between these and a cobweb on the ceiling his troubled looks travelled, as he gnawed the end of his pen, and passed his fingers aimlessly through his hair. There was something wrong; and what it was he could not for the life of him make out. To any one familiar with Fisher major's business--or, rather, unbusiness--habits, there was nothing wonderful in that. He was happy-go-lucky in all his dealings. He could receive a subscription one day, and only remember, in a panic, to enter it a week after. His money he kept all over the place; some in his desk, some in the cash-box, some in the drawer of his inkstand. He had a vague idea that he had a special reason for dividing it thus--that one lot may have belonged to the School clubs, another to the House clubs, and another to something else. But which was which it passed his wit to remember. He had had his doubts of the business all along. His friends had urged him to take the office, and with their help he had persuaded himself its duties were simple and easily discharged. He had determined he would do the thing thoroughly well. He had bought these account-books out of his own private purse, and spent an evening in beautifully ruling them in red ink, with one column for the date, one for the name, and three for pounds, shillings, and pence. He had procured two letter-files, labelled respectively "Club" and "House," into which to put his receipts. And he had provided himself with a dozen elastic bands and an equal number of paper-fasteners. What more could a treasurer desire? Alas! the beautiful account-books got mixed up with one another, the letter-files remained empty, and the elastic bands somehow did duty as football garters. The Club accounts were scrawled, for the most part, in pencil on the backs of envelopes, awaiting a grand transcription into the books; and the receipts, pending a similar fortunate time, where huddled away in the drawer with Greek verses and letters from the people at home. Things had now come to a pass. The captain had yesterday suggested that, in view of the meeting to-day, it would be well to have the accounts made up, so as to be able, if called upon, to state exactly how they stood financially.